


Wrecking Ball

by lesbomancy



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Gen, Republic Strategic Information Service, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 11:42:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6078060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbomancy/pseuds/lesbomancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norri Dekk borders on retirement... a lot. But occasionally he comes back to clean up old messes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrecking Ball

The taste of blood in his mouth made it hard to think. It wasn’t every day where a baton hit you in the face so hard you were certain your favorite jaw has a new crack in it. He drew his opponent’s arms forward and kneed them in the chest. They were a lot larger than him, a gamorrean, so it barely had an effect. The porcine man gurgled loudly in pain, using it’s own weight to force Dekk onto the ground. It was like having a hutt fall on top of you.

Slamming into the cold metal flooring of a half-finished building wasn’t pleasant, but then again dying to a hired thug was also low on the list of healthy priorities. The gamorrean hefted a toolbox that it found on the floor and brought it down between Dekk’s legs, the man shifting at the last moment. The human used the momentum to get to his feet, kicking the gamorrean in the face so hard he chipped a tusk. Two more kicks and one downward slam of his heel into the back of the pig’s head and the gamorrean seemed out for the count. He doubled over, panting as he looked down at the battered humanoid. Maybe all this vacation time with his family was taking it’s toll - maybe four years really did make him rusty.

After all, training droids didn’t know how to play with no rules. Not the ones he had.

With some life brought back into him, Dekk stumbled over to the junction box where he was previously setting up explosive charges. The last magnetic canister was primed, placed and armed. The earpiece he had in his ear buzzed with chatter as it hung lamely at his neckline. As he plugged it back in he noticed his gloves were torn-.. how long and how horrible was that fight?

It didn’t matter. Last canister of many on a simultaneous countdown. Ten minutes to get from the top to the bottom. Once the building blew up it would force a particularly wealthy crime lord to reconsider his plans with several subversive elements. War was all about support, after all.

“-… Senior Agent! De-.. sir! We have a problem! Are you okay? Are you OKAY?!” A panicked, young male voice. Gyum Zennigan - code name Womp Rat. Corellian twi’lek, new SIS agent unfit for field work but taken along anyway.

“Don’t use designations, Womp Rat. Last charge is set and the building is clear of innocents. Expecting no collateral,” Dekk returned.

The comm broke through, mostly static and filled with blaster fire in the background. “No! Sir! Some SI agents are here - we’re in a gunfight with them now.. oh, oh gosh. This is really, really bad. I can’t contact Varactyl and Lobelot is dead! We need help - we’re going to miss the extraction shuttle!”

“Varactyl here. All’s good,” a new voice, feminine. “LZ is under fire, just a patrol. Got Lobelot’s body and I can hold them off ‘til you get here.” Agent Kasea Roschin, code-name Agent Varactyl. Cathar from Cathar. Lacks in experience but makes up for it in ruthlessness and an intimidating roll of her R’s in conversation.

Dekk lifted his arm and pulled the covering off of his wrist computer. As he rushed down the stairs he micro-managed what he could. Traps, drones- almost all of them were down. Womp Rat and the rest of the team were alone on their skill, a very untested and minimal skill.

An explosion rang out from the floors below, forcing Dekk to grab onto a guardrail so that he didn’t take the longest, most fatal plunge of his life. At least they installed the guardrails first. “Status!” he barked over the comms.

“Kell Drake is bleeding! So much-.. sir! Please don’t let us die!” Womp Rat all but bawled over the line.

Time was catching up. If Ricky Gernarian was working at the behest of SI and if they sent enough of a force to cause trouble with the war in full swing? This was likely a lot bigger than the initial dossier let on. Dekk finally reached the elevator to the lower levels, his body stopping only when it forcefully smacked against the wall. The doors closed and he prepared to be welcomed by blaster fire.

“In the access elevator. Womp Rat, which position are you at?” He asked.

“Posi-..” static. Blaster fire. Someone screaming for help or relief. “… position six, sir! If you come down you’ll be right behind them!” The twi’lek almost sounded excited.

“Understood. Watch your fire, I’ll be coming in. Not stopping until I have you all there. Varactyl?”

“Sir,” the Cathar returned.

“When the shuttle arrives, inform the driver to fly into the lobby at a hover. If they are not amenable then feel free to force them onto a 30-minute break and do it,” Dekk cleared his throat. “We’re out in two minutes. Clear?”

“Very, sir. See you in a minute.” Varactyl clicked off of the comm.

Left to relative silence, Dekk checked his gear. One stun grenade, four energy cells, wrist-mounted dart launcher, sniper rifle and a stun baton. The very one the gamorrean on the rooftops used against his own face. Couldn’t think of the pain now, it would slow him down. He adjusted his scope for a more point-blank view, turning off all magnification and filters he had applied earlier.

As the numbers affixed atop the elevator door descended he raised his rifle and adopted a combat stance. Firm, forward torso. Rifle butt pressed firmly against his shoulder with steady footing.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

The doors opened, exposing a plaza riddled with SI agents in plainclothes and several Imperial marines in covert operations gear. They didn’t hear the elevator - Dekk wasn’t going to wait and let them find out.

He pivoted, snapping off single shots as he advanced between shipping containers, crates and the newly installed, flora-less planters. The blue blaster bolts cut through the air and acted as their own tracer, juxtaposing against the wave of red which were all going in the opposite direction.

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Three down, all from behind. Marines, heavily armed. Their autocannons dropped to the floor and they all slumped forward in various states of disarray - there may have been well over twenty of them but he was making short work. It wasn’t like the vids, it never was. They fell over at best, nobody ever flew back from a simple blaster shot.

Dekk kept a clean house. He pivoted around to fire behind him as he came out of cover, a fresh scorch mark in the face of a Pureblood agent appearing moments before their own shot barely missed his face. He felt the heat. Four more, then he’d be in heavier cover.. it’d have to be hand-to-hand. He looked up, snapping off shots at a set of snipers trying to do the same with him.

One of them fell back in their perch, the other tipped over and eventually pirouetted through the sky until they landed in a shallow fountain with a loud crack. They knew where he was now, several of the front line turning to fire at him. He lowered his rifle and broke into a sprint, dodging between cover until he came face to face with his first victim. Armored. Humanoid. 9th Destroyers Regiment, judging by the patch. He was reloading.

He went low, as if he was going to charge into the person’s stomach. The marine drew his knife and prepared for it.. and Dekk brought his rifle up at the last moment, swept the knife away and butted the man in the face. His visor cracked and one wide, surprised eye stared back as he was pushed out of cover and shot twice in the chest.

A crackle of sparks next to his head gave Dekk a new target, the human twirling and taking cover behind a crate. He looked down at his weapons. His sniper rifle was overheating and it’s energy cells almost depleted. The area was too enclosed now for the length of his rifle so he slung it around his shoulder and prepared his wrist launcher.

Another hiss of fresh blaster fire sent fire in his direction, one of the sparks landing on his face and causing a rather unpleasant feeling. He grit his teeth briefly as the flames flicked his person. Listening to the burst of fire from the big marine.

Three shots.

Two second pause.

Three shots.

A rigid, militaristic cadence but with how invested Sith Intelligence was with the area there was no doubt that they had enough energy cells to fire until the small SIS team was drawn and quartered. He tapped his foot to count each second, waiting for the chance.

Three shots.

Pause.

Three shots.

Dekk turned from behind the cover, firing off all six cylinders from his wrist launcher. Thousands of tiny flechettes broke apart mid-air and peppered the marine with toxic darts. His shielding unit broke immediately, overloaded, and his armor soon resembled swiss cheese as he screamed and pawed at himself. Threat neutralized.

The crackle of blaster fire was lesser, now concentrated in a single area. A small Hutt style transport skiff with several SI agents and two marines fired down on Dekk’s team, all of them crowded underneath construction equipment which was swiftly being shot to pieces.

Stun baton. Stun grenade.

He licked his lips, exhausted sweating and nearly out of ideas. Better bold and stupid than guilty of leaving his agents to die. Time to board a skiff.

The agent ran up and scaled the construction equipment underneath the skiff, his legs straining as he jumped and latched on to the guard rail. The stun grenade was primed and he rolled it onto the deck of the skiff. The paralyzing light and sounds of the grenade caught him briefly but it was enough to have Dekk’s eyes hurt and his ears ring. He rolled onto the deck, extended his baton and cracked the kneecaps of both SI agents before jamming the white-rot stun rod into their faces for the appropriate three seconds each.

He pulled one of the SI agents sidearms from their holster, turned to face the marines behind him, and shot them both center mass twice. They fell over, dead, and the skiff’s automatic pilot resumed after the skiff itself threatened to tilt over.

On queue, Agent Varactyl’s transport ship screeched loudly as it scraped against the ceiling of the plaza, breaking apart concrete and metal alike as it carved it’s path to them. More agents and marines were in the distance, swarming from other parts of the building and several ships outside closing in. They were all armed.

“SENIOR AGENT! I CAN’T CARRY THEM ALL!” Womp Rat called out, waving his hands above his head - he was surrounded with bodies. Most of them wounded and panting after having survived the assault. How did Rat manage to stay so energetic?

Dekk jumped down from the skiff and rushed to find Womp Rat and company. They were battered and only Womp Rat was conscious at this point. Five agents, one of them clearly not breathing. The ramp to Varactyl’s transport clanked loudly onto the floor, shattering a statue of the crime lord that was building the plaza. Three medical droids sprinted out and helped gather up the wounded, not waiting for orders as they hauled ass back inside the civilian transport.

The ramp closed up and Dekk ran for the cockpit. He hated flying. As Varactyl turned the ship around, Dekk reached the bridge and sat down next to the woman. “Those ships are armed - we have no weapons.”

“You’re right,” Varactyl returned. “But we have tow cables.”

She leaned forward, flicking several switches. A loud hydraulic hiss escaped the cockpit as the nearby backloader was latched onto with a magnetic pad from the transport. Varactyl kicked the ship forward as fast as she could and as the transport rattled and it’s paint flew off, it also amassed quite the following behind it. Once out of the lobby, the backloader swung behind the transport wantonly until Varactyl banked up at a 90 degree angle. Dekk clutched his seat and threatened to vomit and the cathar flicked the switch again just as the first salvo of turbolaser fire buffeted the transport.

Behind them, a lot of explosions happened. The first SI ship dodged the backloader as it detached and fell to earth. Unfortunately it rammed it’s comrade and the two spun out into opposite directions without many of the pieces that qualified their vessels as space worthy.

The vessel behind it, a clunky ship made for boarding and firepower, took the backloader to the underbelly as it tried to pull away - the last image Dekk had of it was it sliding towards the planet like a wounded bird unable to fly upwards. Behind it, the tower exploded in a mushroom cloud and collapsed in on itself. Minimal debris, minimal collateral damage.

Dekk’s death grip on his chair’s armrests loosened only slightly when Varactyl leveled the transport out.

“Please don’t drive again,” Dekk barely said in a whisper. “I’d rather die than do that twice.”


End file.
